


Secrets

by DarkestElemental616



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 05:47:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17074523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkestElemental616/pseuds/DarkestElemental616
Summary: Lithuania finds a sex diary in Poland's room while cleaning one day. There seems to be a distinct lack of sex in it, and that just won't do.





	Secrets

The day was gloomy, to say the least. Rain dripped mournfully from the roof and into the (empty) flowerboxes outside the window, and outside everything was gray and brown, without even the remains of autumn leaves to add spots of cheer.

Poland was out of the house, which meant that Liet had the place to himself. Which, naturally, meant that he actually had time to clean.

The first place he headed was Poland’s room. He could clean most of the house just fine with the blond in the house—at least well enough that the place was liveable—but Feliks’ room was impossible to get into. The little blond would complain loudly and lock the door, leaving Toris standing dumbfounded outside with a duster and vacuum cleaner every time.

It never occurred to him that Feliks had something to hide.

As soon as he stepped inside, Liet let out a tiny cry of distress. The place was a  _mess_. Dirty laundry hung everywhere, and where there wasn’t dirty laundry there was dust. The carpet, where it was visible, didn’t look like it had been vacuumed in  _decades_. And yes, there were cobwebs in the corners, and trash piled around them. Poland had obviously started avoiding those corners once the spiders started moving in.

Sighing, the brunet plugged in the vacuum cleaner. He’d better get those first, at least…

Several hours later, the dust was gone, the laundry was drying on the line outside, and the cobwebs had been cleared away. Now it was time to tackle the piles of books and papers lying all over the desk and pouring out from under the bed.

Toris had managed to stack perhaps five books before a bright splash of pink caught his eye among the browns and grays of various ledgers, and the blues and oranges of trashy romance novels. Curious, he reached for it, wiggling the tiny book from under the others and causing a mini-avalanche of books to cascade off of the bed.

“What’s this?” he murmured to himself, fingers tracing the silvery marker that stated ‘SECRET: DO NOT OPEN’ and ‘PROPERTY OF POLAND’. It seemed to be an address book, albeit a rather plain one where Feliks was concerned. Toris opened it and began flipping through.

At first, the information really didn’t seem to make much sense. There were dates and places going back for decades, along with various tiny smiling or frowning faces. They seemed to be color-coded randomly, which didn’t mean anything to Toris…until he spotted a particular entry written in green ink.

_11 listopada 2000. Paris._

The eleventh of November. Feliks’ birthday. That particular year, Toris had taken the tiny blond to Paris. Not necessarily a new place for either of them, and Feliks had whined the entire time that he’d rather be back in his own country celebrating with his people, but he’d at least enjoyed his present.

Or so Toris had thought. If this book was about what he thought it was about…the little frowny face meant that he  _hadn’t_. Quickly, he flipped through until he found another date he remembered, back when the two of them had finally decided to make peace, at least temporarily. Sure enough, there was a smiley-face there.

It was a sex diary, all right. And Toris knew that he had absolutely no business reading something like this. Yet he found himself turning back to the beginning—why Poland had decided to transfer dates from the forties onward into this thing was beyond him—and re-reading it, page by page.

At first, there were quite a lot of entries in green, interspersed with purple—Toris assumed this was for Ivan—and several other colors in lesser amounts. But as the decades wore on…

The brunet frowned. Okay, so they’d both been busy after the Cold War with their own things, and there’d been a lot of tension on and off, but…they hadn’t really had sex that little, had they? Not to mention the fact that the fewer green entries there were, the fewer accompanying smiley faces there had been to go with them.

Toris slammed the book shut. Well, this simply wouldn’t do. It was an insult to him and his pride as a man, this little book, and he fully intended to rectify the situation.

The first thing he did was hide the book in his room before going back to Feliks’ room. He had a job to do first, after all, and he often found that cleaning helped him to think better. Within three hours, he had a plan, and the blond’s room was sparkling.

By the time Feliks got home, the house was clean and empty. There was no sign whatsoever of his friend. The blond stepped inside, looking around carefully.

“Liet?” he called. “Liiiiiiiiiet, I’m home.” When he received no response, he snorted, putting his hands on his hips. “All right, Liet, whatever you’re planning, it, like, isn’t funny.”

Nothing.

 _Now_  Feliks was starting to get worried. He went through every room in the house, looking for anything. If Liet had somehow been kidnapped…but no human alive would be able to surprise Toris, or take him without a fight, and there was no sign of a struggle. It was just…weirdly clean.

“Liet, this is  _totally_  not funny.” Feliks’ voice was starting to shake. He went to his room, barely noticing the sudden visibility of carpet, and dashed to the closet, pulling out one of his old swords. It was rusty enough that he had trouble drawing it, but he managed after a few minutes of furious tugging.

He headed out into the hallway, clutching his sword and hoping he remembered how to use it well enough if he needed it. “Liet! Where are you? This is, like, totally creeping me out here!” Hours passed, and still no sign of Toris. Feliks remained in the living room, curled up on the couch and clutching the sword like a comforting stuffed animal. Afternoon turned into evening. Evening gave way to nightfall.

By one in the morning, Feliks had fallen fast asleep, sprawled on the couch. The sword lay forgotten on the table.

So of course he missed the back door opening quietly, and a darkened figure creeping past him and into the basement. He missed the thumps and rustling and even a startlingly loud bang before the cellar door opened again. He missed the muffled laughter his appearance caused. And somehow, he managed to completely miss the fact that he was getting picked up and carried away.

Feliks woke up to darkness. At first he wasn’t too worried; maybe the power was out, or Liet had come home and put him to bed. Then, as awareness slowly crept back in, he realized that the darkness wasn’t from the room. His window always had  _some_  light filtering in. What was going on?

He felt soft cloth across his eyes. A blindfold. His wrists felt bound, too, now that he could properly focus, but he couldn’t tell by what. The texture was just… _totally_  weird.

“Okay,” he said loudly, “Russia, if this is, like, your idea of fun, it’s totally not working for me. Where’s Liet?”

He received no response, though his straining ears could pick up the sound of someone shifting next to him. His head turned to face the source of the noise, and was met by a soft hand touching his cheek. Immediately, Feliks jerked away.

“Stop that!” he hissed, baring his teeth. “This is totally not funny! Ohmygod, what century do you think this  _is_? Let me go!”

The hand turned rough, grabbing the blond’s chin and holding his head in place as a hard mouth closed over his own. Feliks yelped, too shocked to even bite down on the tongue that invaded his mouth. Another hand slid under his short skirt, rubbing the blond’s leg. At that, Feliks  _did_  bite down, enough to make his molester cry out and pull away.

But only temporarily. The hand under his skirt resumed rubbing his sensitive inner thighs, fingers occasionally dipping under the elastic of Feliks’ panties.

“Oh God,” Feliks gasped, writhing as that groping hand brushed against his cock and began sliding his panties off. “Wh-what do you…”

“Shh,” the man responded, his voice low and obviously disguised. “I’ve seen your little  _book_. Did you honestly think you could get away with that?”

“Wh-what?” Feliks nearly arched off the bed as a hot mouth closed over his growing erection, biting down on his lip hard to muffle a shriek. This guy was  _good_. He moaned as the guy pulled off, licking his way messily up the shaft before swallowing him down again. The bindings around his wrists clattered (they must be soft handcuffs, he thought fuzzily) as he tried uselessly to grab the guy’s head and force him to take  _more_ , to be able to do  _anything_  other than writhe and  _moan_  like he was getting his brains fucked out. The guy wasn’t even touching anything else, really, just sucking him off and driving him  _crazy_ …

“L-Liet!” The name tore from him unbidden as he came, shuddering violently.

The man pulled away violently enough to tear Feliks’ skirt. “…How did you know?” he asked thickly.

“Liet?” Poland’s head shot up, staring blindly downward. “Is…is that actually you? For real?”

The blindfold was carefully pulled away, revealing the sheepish brunet. “…Yeah.”

Feliks stared at him in shock before narrowing his eyes. “You’ve, like, got a  _ton_  of explaining to do.”

Toris slid forward, kissing the blond gently. “I’ll be more than happy to explain things to you all night long.”

Feliks shivered, giving Toris a tiny grin. “You’d  _better_ ,” he purred, leaning in for another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Commissioned fic imported from Tumblr.


End file.
